Children of a Legacy
by Reidluver
Summary: There comes a time when others must rise to the challenge, when the older generation must step down and make way for the younger. However, being the children of legends doesn't necessarily mean it will be easy.


**Hello! For those who are checking this out because you've read my other stories, I thank you deeply because this is my first POTC fic and I want to know how it turns out. For those who are experiencing my writing for the first time, I welcome you and appreciate your taking the time to check this out. I hope it's not a waste of your time. I know I wanted to work on ****Unleashed**** before this, but I need to still work on that and with college started and all, it's going to take a while and I want to show you all I'm still alive. (Some of this was written a while ago and I added a few more things)**

**I want you all to know that this story is much darker than anything else I've written, and I wanted to try my hand at it. This is during the pirate age, so it works. **

**With that said, please enjoy and tell me what you think at the end! For those who don't know, for anyone who reviews, I have a little dedication at the beginning of each following chapter as a token of my appreciation. Enjoy!**

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Kista relished in the cold, salty water that lightly splashed on her delicate skin, the gentle ocean breeze that calmly guided the sails, an absolute necessity for life on the sea. It determined life or death, because while it could provide the necessary lift for travel, it could also prove perilous and send those it deemed unworthy to continue down to Davy Jones' Locker.

However, she knew that come storms that may, she would fight destiny, laugh it in the face; do whatever she could to turn the tide. She would cheat death itself, just like her father—

"KISTA!"

The young girl woke up with a start, the cool ocean breeze fading, replaced by the repugnant smell of rum, and whatever else slithered its way into the small shack she called a home.

"What is it, Scarlet?!" she yelled back, frustrated at being so rudely awakened.

"You lazy wench, have you been sleeping all this time?!" her mother's voice echoed from downstairs. "Time to work!"

"All right, all right, I'm coming," Kista groaned. Her mother was _not _in a good mood today. _Must have not been able to work her 'magic' on Andrews last night_, she observed with a smirk. _Serves her right_.

Scarlet was Kista's mother, and her father the one and only Captain Jack Sparrow. she had never met him, but Kista's first memories were of her mother telling her all about her father, and all of his heroic deeds. She could remember the pride in her mother's eyes as she spoke of him, the she, of all people was chosen to be his wife. **(A/n Scarlet is the first woman from the first movie to slap Jack in Tortuga)**

As a child, she could think about nothing but how amazing her father was. When her mother was too busy at work, she would go around asking for stories about Jack Sparrow from the various pirates that came to Tortuga, at least, those who were sober enough for capable speech.

There was nothing but praise to be said of him, even those who had been cheated out of gold or a small dingy spoke of his daftness and clever thinking that made Jack Sparrow unforgettable. With that said, Kista thought she was the luckiest girl in the world to have such a famous father and an incredible mother.

Over time, however, once she was old enough to understand the ways of the world, she realized that her mother was not who she originally thought she was. Kista had thought that she never got to see her father because he was always at sea, going on some dangerous adventure, but would eventually be able to come home and put her on his lap and fascinate her with stories galore of all his encounters around the world. At age 5, she learned that Scarlet and Jack never married. In fact, all that had transpired between them was a few short nights in Scarlet's bedroom. No marriage, nothing. Jack didn't even know he had a daughter.

Scarlet was a whore (like most of the woman in Tortuga), and did whatever she could to charm other pirates for their company, and sometimes payment. She helped run one of the local bars, which is how she picked up on most of the men and brought them to her small house. Kista was disgusted with the news, and never thought of her mother in the same light again.

This knowledge only made her more obsessed with finding her father. She found she could not blame him for his actions. Once he knew that he had a daughter, Kista was adamant that he would be overjoyed and let her immediately join him on his journeys. In order to do that however, she would have to prove to him that she was seaworthy.

And so, for the next couple years, Kista bribed and begged pirates who came to dock at Tortuga for lessons in seafaring: how to put up a sail, the various duties on a ship, different terminology, tips on escaping the marines, the Pirate Code, and many other handy talents and abilities necessary for life on the sea. Everyone had something different to offer, and Kista did everything in her power to remember and practice it.

Some of them had the gull to ask for her company at night once she was older since they knew who her mother was, so she would smile and invite them to have some rum first, which they eagerly accepted. While they drank, Kista would put on the charm her mother swore came from her (surprisingly the only ability she was proud of getting from her mother), and wait until the pirate was so drunk they couldn't think straight, then take some of his money to pay for the drinks, and then a few coins for herself, to save away to get out of the wretched island.

After paying and stealing some of their money, Kista would calmly bring them to a nice place to stay, cover them with halfway decent blankets, and use their money again to pay for the room overnight. The only way she was able to do this was the fact that she held her liquor well.

She had no idea how or why, but all Kista knew was that it took about a barrel or two of rum to get her really drunk. This talent mostly came from her father, according to what others told her, and she used it to her advantage. Many new men would challenge her to a drinking contest once they heard that a mere girl held the record, but they all failed and Kista earned the winnings. Strangely enough, this ability granted her a sort of fellowship among the men, and made them all the more willing to teach her more about pirate life.

The moment she had learned that Scarlet never married Jack, Kista was filled with fear and dread that Jack Sparrow was most likely not her father, but rather some random pirate that her mother slept with. She remembered running to the bar where her mother worked with tears in her eyes and asked people if she looked like Jack. All who had met him previously assured her that were it not for her "feminine blessings" as they termed it, she could pass off as a young Jack Sparrow, and they said it with so much sincerity that Kista knew it to be true.

And so she would spend hours in front of a mirror, fingering her long, curly, jet-black hair and stare at her dark brown eyes. Her skin was also deeply tan, an attribute she was extremely grateful to have gotten from her father because her mother was whiter than a ghost.

One night, a few days after she turned 16, she was bringing orders around to various people in the bar, dodging fights that had broken out and people dancing while they were drunk, when one person grabbed her by the arm.

"What is it, sir?" she asked politely, able to smell the rum on his breath.

"Yer Jack Sparrow's daugh'r ain't ya?" he wheezed, taking a swig of his rum.

"Yes." She had no idea where this was going.

"I jes saws him—'bout . . . no more'n ten minutes'go," he slurred, placing a shaky arm around her shoulders and pointing at the exit with the bottle of rum in his other hand.

"Really?" Kista asked excitedly, too afraid it was just the ramblings of a drunken man.

"I's swear, on me honor's a pirate," he burped as he lost his footing and almost pushed Kista into a pillar.

"Thank you—very much, sir," Kista said as she struggled to get him off her. "I will go check it out."

_He most likely is lying, but what's the harm in trying?_

She quickly ran to give the remaining two beers to their purchasers, and sprinted out of the bar, dodging obstacles with ease, and took off towards the pier at breakneck speed, the small apron she wore on top of her revealing dress flailing in the wind and high-heeled shoes her mother made her wear sunk into the mud with each step. It did not stop her, although she fell down once, soiling her dress, but she didn't care.

Finally, she came to the pier and stopped to catch her breath, frantically searching for the father she saw only in her dreams.

"Oi! You there!" she yelled, speaking to the man on duty.

"Aye, miss?" he said pleasantly, still sober, but slightly drunk.

"Did anyone by the name of Jack Sparrow come by this dock?" she asked, careful to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"Aye, took off pretty quick, mind you," the man smirked, gesturing to the water. "Been about five minutes at best, too far to reach now."

"NO!" she screamed desperately. She had been so close, _so close!_

"Jack! Jack Sparrow!" she bellowed to the distance, running up to the water's edge. She squinted and saw the shadow of a small figure on the midnight horizon.

"JACK SPARROW!" Kista cupped her hands around her mouth, but it was no use. Soon the figure faded from sight and she sunk to her knees, small tears running down her face.

_After all these years of dreaming, I was so close to being able to meet him!_ She spent a few minutes pitying herself then wiped away her tears, a new goal in mind.

_Well, if he won't come to me, its bloody well time I search for him!_ Kista was sick and tired of being stuck in the horrible place that was Tortuga. Being 16 years old, it was only a matter of time before she could no longer trick men into getting them drunk before they had their way with her. Despite all the training she underwent to make herself strong and her skills with a sword, she knew she would get raped someday, men taking her to be just like her mother. She had to leave if she wanted to have a life of her own, and she knew just how to do it.

Turning away from the dock, Kista made the long journey home, slamming the door as she did so, her anger at just missing her father not abated yet.

"What took you so long?" her mother's shrill voice exploded from the sparse kitchen. "And why are your clothes covered in mud?! That just gives me more work to do!"

"Shut up, you bloody whore," Kista muttered under her breath. Judging by her mother's attitude, she was once again turned down, something that hadn't happened in a while.

"What did you just call me?!" Scarlet screeched, snatching Kista's arm and slapping her hard across the face. "You better be grateful to me, giving you a roof over your head and not abandoning you once you were born! I could have thrown you into the streets you know, and all I ask is for a little respect and for you to pay your share of the rent!"

"I _do_ pay my share, you know that!" Kista growled, rubbing her cheek as she did so.

"True, but you would get a lot more money if you just entertained a few men every once and a while," she huffed. Scarlet always brought this up, because she just couldn't understand why her daughter refused to follow in her footsteps. Little did she know that Kista stole money from the men she made drunk and had quite a healthy stash of money buried away in the tiny room she slept in.

"And as I've told _you_ before, I don't want to end up like you, so you better just back off and leave me alone!"

"Well, you're not getting any dinner tonight!" Scarlet yelled up after Kista as she ran up the stairs, away from her mother's grasp.

"I don't care!" she screamed back, slamming the door.

"And that goes for breakfast as well!" Scarlet's muffled voice came through the flimsy floorboards.

"As if I bloody care," Kista muttered under her breath as she lay on her back on the lump of mattress that was her bed. She was used to missing meals, seeing as how her mother usually forgot to feed her anyway, or deemed it fit to punish her often, or sometimes forgot to buy enough food for her daughter as well.

The teen didn't dare use any of the money she had for food, because she never knew when she would need to use it, so she usually stuffed her pockets and folds of her clothes with food she nicked from the plates of people she served at the bar. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her going. Kista could now go a few days without food as long as she had a decent amount of liquid, rum or not.

Scarlet had always puzzled Kista, because up until she was about five years old, Scarlet was the most amazing mother in the world, showering Kista with love and affection, spending more time with her than the men she took upstairs, and would always rock her in her arms, telling her stories about her father, Jack Sparrow. Kista remembered feeling safe in her mother's arms, always excited when she came home from working at the bar and they would spend time playing games that Kista had invented as she stayed at home by herself.

Then one day, everything changed. Scarlet came home furious and upset, pushing Kista out of the way as she tried to hug her mother. The young girl watched as the woman she came to love and cherish snatched a large bottle of brandy from the cupboard and sat down, draining it as fast as she could. Kista had seen her mother drink before, but it was always in little amounts.

"This stuff is God's medicine to dealing with troubles," she used to say with a wink, but she never drank more than a few gulps.

Once the bottle was half empty, Scarlet began rampaging about Jack, calling him all manner of curse words Kista had never heard before. The way she was speaking caused Kista to think that she had seen her father, so she eagerly stepped forward and asked her mother if she had seen him.

For a second, her mother just stared at Kista, her eyes slightly unfocused, then she erupted. Scarlet slammed the jug down on the small table and charged at the girl, grasping her around the neck and held her a few inches off the floor.

"Yeah, I saw him," she growled dangerously, her eyes bloodshot and the smell of liquor making Kista gag. "I tried to bring him here, but he would have nothing of it!" Then she threw Kista against the wall and went ballistic.

"You're nothing but a wench!!" she screamed, walking around in circles as if clearly distressed. "I have done nothing but treat you like a princess for five bloody years!! Five! And when I finally find your father again, I learn that he hardly remembers me!" (Here she took a quick gulp of brandy) "And then, I learn that he had seen three other women since I've seen him!"

Being five, Kista had no idea what she meant, only that her neck was sore, it was hard to breathe, and her whole body was throbbing with pain from colliding with the wall.

"He NEVER cared about me," Scarlet continued, "and now he's left me with a bloody BRAT!! A bloody brat who does nothing for me!!" Scarlet finally snapped and began slapping and punching Kista randomly as she yelled other obscenities against Jack Sparrow, and then a couple other dozen men that Kista never knew, taking breaks to drink some more brandy.

Kista had no idea how much time passed that she was ruthlessly beaten, but she did know that after a while her mother finally passed out on the couch, a drool of spit running down her chin, no longer the goddess Kista thought she was. Although bruised and bloody, Kista slowly stood up and covered her shivering mother with a blanket, telling herself over and over again as tears ran down her face that her mommy was just a little sad and ill, and that she'd be better in the morning.

Once her mother was as comfortable as Kista could make her, the five-year old set about trying to heal her injuries, tying bandages around a cut on her arm from crashing into a vase, put some cream on her bruises, and wiped away the blood on her cut lip. At one point she dared look at herself in the mirror, and was so frightened by her appearance that she felt ready to break the mirror. However, she was afraid that she would upset her mother by doing that, so she restrained herself from doing so.

Kista sniffed, trying to fight the tears that had just recently stopped, but they came anyway. Once she had cried for quite a few minutes, her eyes lay on the almost finished brandy bottle, only about a fourth of it left.

"This stuff is God's medicine to dealing with troubles," she repeated to herself slowly. With a quick glance at her sleeping mother, Kista grabbed the jug and carried it to her room, where she took a deep breath and proceeded to finish the bottle, despite the bad taste. After a few gulps, Kista felt the pain slowly ebb away and she eagerly finished the rest, causing her to fall into a drunken slumber.

The next day Kista learned about the horrors of hangovers and didn't dare come out of her room until she heard her mother shut the door to leave for work. She crept downstairs to have a little bite to eat, but noticed to her dismay that all the cupboards were locked, and she knew her mother had a key. That was the day she learned how to steal.

A few days later, Kista's wounds were relatively healed and her mother finally called her downstairs. She took one look at Kista and muttered, "You start work tomorrow. Time to earn your keep around here."

From that point on, Kista began working at the bar, doing menial labor at first, but progressed as she grew older and stronger. All the new sights and experiences frightened her, and any mistakes she made resulted in beatings at home, so she learned fast. Over time the beatings decreased, but her contempt for her mother grew.

The only thing she had to keep her willing to live was the chance to meet her father, Jack Sparrow. She had quickly become obsessed with him, and rationalized that everything that had happened to her was her mother's fault, and that if her father knew about her, then he would take her far away from Tortuga to live on the sea with him. The only reason she couldn't find him was because her mother would do anything she could to prevent her from seeing him, a fact that Kista determined for herself.

Now, as she lay on her bed at 16 years old, she was finally going to escape. No more would she have to endure her mother's emotional and physical abuse, no more would she have to live in this wretched island, and she could finally go at sea where she belonged, and be with the father who wanted her.

"Tomorrow, I'll leave you forever, Scarlet," Kista whispered.

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**So, what do you think? Please review! (I know this first chapter might seem a little cliche, but I promise this will branch off from the normal stories)**


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